


Once Upon A Time, Not So Long Ago

by SatansTrueMistress



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Bon Jovi - Freeform, Brad’s sister swear a lot, Gen, Poke and Layla are gonna be bff’s, Remember that one headcanon I had on tumblr, this is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatansTrueMistress/pseuds/SatansTrueMistress
Summary: Brad’s sister tells Poke about the time he got White Girl Wasted.





	Once Upon A Time, Not So Long Ago

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t nearly as good as I wanted it to be but *shrug*. I wrote it on my phone in the bathtub in two hours. Whatcha gonna do? The entire time I was writing it all I could hear was The Police screeching LAAYLA

“Poke this is my sister Layla, Layla this is Tony, get in the back, I’m driving him home.” 

 

She rolled her eyes, “You’re fucking bossy.” 

 

><><><><><><><><

 

‘ _Once upon a time...not so long ago_ ’

 

“Brad turn this up, please.” 

 

“No. Jon Bon Jovi isn’t allowed in my vehicles,” Brad replied switching the station entirely to some dumbass country station. 

 

“Good thing it’s my car then, huh?”

 

“I’m the one driving,” Brad reminded her.

 

“I don’t give two singular fucks.” 

 

“Why isn’t Bon Jovi allowed in your car, Iceman? I thought white people loved Bon Jovi.” 

 

 

Layla choked from the backseat. “ What  did you call him?”

 

“Iceman. You know, because he’s always cool under-“ 

 

“Brad’s never been cool about anything in his life. He wears sandals and jeans for fuck’s sake.” 

 

“Fuck off Layla,” Brad said evenly. 

 

”Oh! Shit, dude, let me tell you why Bon Jovi is banned in the first place!” 

 

“Layla Eliana, don’t you dare.”

 

“Okay so I’m like, fourteen, right. _Just_ passed  driver’s training. Mom and Dad had gone out of town for some weird architect meeting or some fuckin shit, it’s three in  the fucking morning  and the phone rings...

{}

 

“Heeeyyy Laylabug. Did I wake you up? I’m sorry. Hey, listen. I’m at Sean’s, Katy took my keys and I need you to come get me.” Brad was extra loud when he was drunk; Layla pulled the phone away from her ear. 

 

“How am I supposed to do that?! It’s three in the morning, dude.” Layla rubbed her eyes. 

 

“Just borrow the car!” 

 

“I don’t even have my license, Brad. Shit I barely have my permit. I’m not getting arrested...”

 

“You won’t be arrested, my little Lays Potato Chip, I’ll give you directions to take the back roads. Then when you get here you’ll have an adult in the car.” 

 

“An adult who is still underage for drinking.” 

 

“Oh right. Just...please come get me. I don’t want to not be there when Mom and Dad get home.” 

 

“You owe me  so much .”

 

“You’re a fucking angel!”

 

“Just give me the fucking directions, you prick.” 

 

 

 

 

Layla hit the brakes outside Sean’s house a little too hard. Brad stumbled to the passenger’s side and tried the handle unsuccessfully. 

 

“Layla unlock the doors,” he hiccuped. 

 

“It’s unlocked you fucking imbecile.” 

 

 

 

 

“Ooh pull into Taco Bell!”

 

“Brad it’s four in the morning!” 

 

“Taco Bell is twenty four hours Layla and I’m hungry!” 

 

“Well I’m fucking tired!” 

 

“Please? I’ll buy you a Baja Blast and a chalupa.” 

 

“You are the fucking bane of my existence,” Layla muttered as she flipped on her blinker. 

 

“You swear a lot for fourteen years old.” 

 

“Fuck you, I swear the perfect amount for someone in my situation. What do you want?” 

 

 

 

 

“I don’t see how they were still serving dinner,” Layla mused as she watched Brad shove an entire Beefy Fritos Burrito down his face. 

 

“It’s the Drunk Hour, kiddo!” Brad grinned, “Let’s get home before mom and dad decide to call and make sure I sent you to school.”

 

“Yeah I’m not fucking going to school today.” 

 

“That is completely fair.” 

 

 

 

“ _WOooAHHH we’re half_ _ -hic-  WAY there WOOOAAH LIVIN ON A PRAAAAYER”  _

 

“You are  the  most tone-deaf motherfucker I’ve ever met!” Layla smacked her brother on the arm as hard as she could without taking her eyes off the road. 

 

“It’s Bon Jovi, Layls! Everybody loves Bon Jovi!” Brad bellowed. 

 

“Not by tone-deaf giants!” 

 

“You’re ruining the song!” Brad punched the back button on the CD player to restart the song. 

 

“You are  butchering  a perfectly good song, Brad!” 

 

He just turned the volume up and sang louder. 

 

{}

 

“He sang that fucking song on repeat for the next twenty minutes!” 

 

“It wasn’t twenty minutes, Layla we didn’t even grow up twenty minutes from town!” Brad interjected loudly. 

 

“I was going 45 miles per hour because, again, I didn’t have a license! I’d never driven on the main roads at night,” Layla retorted. 

 

“Consider it a teaching opportunity.” 

 

Layla flipped him the bird in the rearview mirror, “So, we’re arriving home, it’s five in the morning, our very religious and  very  nosey neighbor Mr. Becker is up watering his garden already. Or...praying to the sun or some shit I don’t know.” 

 

In the front seat, Brad is glowering, but fighting a grin, and Poke is all out losing his mind. 

 

“But this  eighty year old man ,” she punctuates the words with a clap, “Watched two teenagers, one who was clearly fucking plastered, haul ass into their house, because while  Mr  Becker was nosey,  Mrs.  Becker was a tattletale and they were always up at the fucking asscrack of dawn doing fuck knows what. This man, watches Brad fucking  face plant  over this _unbelievably_ ugly garden gnome Mom had. You are so lucky you didn’t break your face, you’re ugly enough as it is.” 

 

By this time, Poke is wiping tears of laughter off his face, “Oh god dawg, you gotta know I’m telling all of recon this story.”

 

“Breathe a word of this,” Brad shoved his finger in Poke’s face, “And I will kill you and marry Gina.” 

 

Layla snorted from the backseat. 

 

“You shut up too,” Brad threatened. 

 

“Man, my wife has higher standards than a white boy.”

 

“She’s half-white, Tony!” 

**Author's Note:**

> Lol I just realized I said Layla was by The Police. 
> 
> Nope, Derek and the Dominos. Sorry classic rock buffs, I had a brain fart 😂


End file.
